


Tell Me a Tale

by orphan_account



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Community: comment_fic, Early Work, F/F, Femslash, Fight Sex, Kissing, POV Female Character, POV Third Person, Rain, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-17
Updated: 2012-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-29 17:40:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/322441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evil is not supposed to pin good down and kiss her. And good, above all else, is not supposed to enjoy it.</p><p>Written for comment_fic @ livejournal, prompt was: wet clothes and electricity do not mix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me a Tale

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 12/12/09.

It's funny, the way they're like a storybook.

Not an epic romance or a classic tale, just a story. Not even a very good one. But it's simple enough for a child to understand. Good and evil. Black and White. Blonde and blonde.

Because only in storybooks, Claire knows, are things that clear. But she throws a punch and tells herself to forget about shades of grey.

And only in storybooks do rainstorms begin exactly as fights do. The shock hits her and then a downpour to drown it out.

"Ahhh!" Blue sparks fly across Elle's fingers, even as her own weapon is turned against her by nature itself.

And good triumphs over evil. Or it tries.

But Elle keeps firing shocks at Claire, despite the pain she's causing herself. And Claire really, truly tries to pay attention to getting in a good punch, but mostly she's mesmerized by the way Elle's wet clothes stick to her skin, how her soaked hair flies in waves over her shoulders.

One more blast and Claire's on her back, Elle climbing on top of her before she can think to get up. And then it's a different kind of battle, tongues waging war as finely manicured nails travel across rain-slicked bodies and under soggy clothes.

This is where Claire's storybook theory starts to get a little fuzzy. Because evil is not supposed to pin good down and kiss her. And good, above all else, is not supposed to enjoy it.

But Claire wants the story, wants the simplicity of dark versus light and not the mix that their tangled limbs creates.

And then the rain is gone, as quickly as it had appeared and Elle is pulling Claire's shirt up off of her body.

"What," Claire gasps, out of breath; adrenaline and all sorts of other things pumping through her veins, "what are you doing? You can't, we can't..."

Even as her words push Elle away, she's grabbing at her, pleading with her hands for her to ignore her mouth.

Elle just giggles, giving her a little shock. It hurts.

"That's the problem with you goody-goodies," Elle says, pulling her own shirt over her head. "You have all these rules and expectations. It's just silly. We can do whatever we want, Claire." She bites down slightly on her neck, hands running across Claire's bare, wet stomach. "Just, not in these wet clothes. They don't mix well"- another shock -"with the fun stuff."

Claire decides, as she unbuttons her jeans, that storybooks are overrated.


End file.
